


Stopped Clock

by Mornelithe_falconsbane



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, trick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:38:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/pseuds/Mornelithe_falconsbane
Summary: The river ran deep here. Orochimaru’s body would disappear without a trace.





	Stopped Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



The river ran deep here. Orochimaru’s body would disappear without a trace.

Orochimaru’s eyes found him in the trees, and he stopped in his tracks. His hands shook as he wrapped his arms around himself, his over-sized shirt gathering in dozens of folds. “Jiraiya.”

Jiraiya tried to smile, and found the lie did not come to him. His face felt like a mask. A lifetime ago, he had stood on this path and welcomed Orochimaru home, blind to everything but his own relief. “Orochimaru.”

His former teammate froze, staring at him like he had seen a ghost. “What’s wrong? Is Tsunade--?”

“She is fine.” Jiraiya assumed she was, anyway. He had not seen her in either years or days, depending on how he counted the time. “You aren’t.”

Orochimaru bristled at that, and Jiraiya spared a thought to marvel at how young Orochimaru was. Barely sixteen, and not yet a monster. Just a monster cub, and a wounded one at that. A lifetime ago, Jiraiya had been so glad to see him that he had not truly seen him. Today his gaze was clearer.

“I am fine, you know. They did not hurt me. I am not--” Orochimaru faltered, his voice betraying him. He covered it quickly, a hint of colour in his snow-white cheeks.  “Why are you just standing there? Do something!”

Jiraiya blinked. Then blinked again. The image of Orochimaru’s vicious smile faded, replaced by the faltering composure of a teenager. There were bruises on Orochimaru’s neck. His clothes were stolen. Blood held the shirt against Orochimaru’s back, and Orochimaru’s mouth trembled every time the breeze hit him.  “Is anyone following you?”

“I don’t think so?” Orochimaru took a hesitant step toward him, and stopped. This Orochimaru was the same age as Naruto had been. A thousand times better at hiding his hurt, but still a child, and his mask was more transparent than not. “Is Hiruzen-sensei okay?”

“Of course,” Jiraiya replied, studying Orochimaru. Orochimaru’s eyes were pink-tinged and his pupils were round. His hair was tangled and wet, drying in bedraggled clumps. His lower lip was red, bite marks swiftly fading. Jiraiya assumed he had bitten it to stay silent. It seemed like something Orochimaru might have done. 

The river was deep. Orochimaru would disappear into it without a trace, and no one would ever question that a captured ninja had not returned. If Jiraiya allowed Orochimaru to live, his next chance could be years away. 

If Jiraiya changed this moment, the future would be unfathomably different.

He left the trees, stopping ten paces away.

Orochimaru stared at him, the tension of his body fading slowly when Jiraiya made no move to come closer. “Something is wrong, though,” Orochimaru said quietly. “You are acting...different.” 

Jiraiya’s chakra sensing was rudimentary without natural chakra, but the sense of Orochimaru’s seething chakra twisting into a silent, handseal-less kai wasn’t something he could miss in any lifetime. “Paranoid?”

“Checking for genjutsu is just common sense,” Orochimaru retorted. His voice was milder than his words, soft and a little unsteady. “Please. Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Someone hurt you,” Jiraiya answered. He was surprised to find that he was angry about it, but teambonds had a way of clinging to your soul long past their usefulness. “Are they dead?”

Orochimaru’s eyes closed, and Jiraiya quietly marveled at that display of trust. “Does it matter?”

“If there’s the slightest chance they could hurt you again--yes.”

“They were--I barely got away. You wouldn’t stand a chance, Jiraiya.” Orochimaru’s bruised throat shifted as he swallowed, and his eyes cracked open enough to watch Jiraiya. “They were Iwa-nin. Killing them would spark a war.”

He had never known that. “Them attacking you won’t?” Jiraiya asked to cover his surprise. He had assumed they were missing-nin for all these years. That Orochimaru had done something awful to them to explain why he had sworn Jiraiya to secrecy. Ridiculous now that he was standing here.

“We can’t do anything about it now.” Orochimaru’s mouth twitched into a smile that looked more pained than pleased. “I can’t fight, and they’re too strong for you to take on by yourself. Let’s just finish the mission and head home.”

Jiraiya forgave Orochimaru his lapse in common sense in a heartbeat--found himself oddly charmed by it. He had forgotten Orochimaru had ever been so young. “If we don’t act on this and they escape back to Iwa, they will think Konoha is weak. They will believe that they can do whatever they want inside our borders and provoke no reaction. This is a test.”  

There were only six, maybe eight months until the next war started. Jiraiya had been too young then to know if this type of thing had been common, but hindsight made the connection easy. Iwa was taunting Hiruzen-sensei with this attack.

“It doesn’t matter. We can’t fight them!” Orochimaru’s voice cracked, gone sharp and shrill with fear. His mouth snapped shut, and he glared at Jiraiya, daring him to make something of it. “I shouldn’t have told you. I should have known you’d--”

Jiraiya tilted his head back, gazing at the deep grey sky while Orochimaru brought himself under control. “Orochimaru--” Jiraiya caught himself before he could call him kid. “--I won’t do anything, okay? Let’s go set up camp. You can wash up and borrow my spare uniform. I’ve worn it maybe twice, it’s clean.” 


End file.
